Retribution
by VladTheImplier
Summary: Perhaps we're not supposed to win. Perhaps the virus has claimed a place above us in this world...  When the infected break humanity's final stand, four survivors find themselves trapped amidst the chaos...in a world they thought they wouldn't see again.
1. Running

_I shouldn't be doing this...oh what the heck. Idea that's been nagging away at me for a while. Enjoy this. By the way, 'boomboom' is meant to be a heartbeat...if it's not clear enough. Which I don't think it is._

Boomboom. The sound of a man running, alone.

'_Daddy?'_

Boomboom.

'_What's wrong sweetie?'_

Boomboom.

'_Are we safe from the zombies?'_

Boomboom.

'_Of course we are.'_

Boomboom. The running stops. The heartbeat quickens.

'_What if they get in?'_

Boomboom, boomboom, boomboom.

'_I'll protect you, Alice. They won't get in.'_

Several cracks rung out amidst the slowly falling rain, as several zombies fell. Suddenly, silence, other than the incessant chattering of the infected.


	2. Quarantine

_Yay, I wrote something! Enjoy my crazy characters and general wierdness. :D_

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The darkskinned man made his way through the sparsely populated streets, clearly in a hurry. It wasn't like it would take him very long, even at normal speed; the town was hardly massive. But he really was in a hurry, and felt more comfortable moving as quickly as possible. Soon he reached his destination-a large building, surprisingly so considering its setting. He walked through the automatic doors and headed to an elevator. _'I still think having these is a miracle'_, he thought, '_we were bloody lucky to find those generators. Thank you, US military.'_ He chuckled to himself. Such a name hardly held any meaning anymore. Finally, he reached his destination floor, and the doors slid open. 'Sir!' He called, to the circular table in the shining silver room. A man across the room, observing their small settlement through a wide glass window, turned to answer him.

'Do you have anything to report, Jones?'

'They found one.'

The grizzled mans eyes grew wide. 'A...survivor?'

'Yes sir. We don't have a bloody clue how he's alive...but he is, and he's not showing any obvious signs of infection.'

His superior adjusted his beret, before speaking again. 'What state is he in?'

'He's unconscious at the moment, but we managed to get some information out of him before he passed out. He was conscious when he arrived, you see.'

'Indeed. What did he say?'

Only that his family...were dead, sir. And his name; Dean. Other than that, all we know isthat he appears to be of an eastern origin, and that he's in pretty bad shape, sir.'

'That's no surprise. Well, keep him under quarantine for a while, and under close inspection. We'll decide what to do with him later.' Jones saluted sharply, before turning and re-entering the elevator.

'_I bloody hate doing that.' _He relaxed his body, easing the sense of tension forced upon him by that room and its occupants. '_Do they have to stare at me like that? Even if it is an important message...'_ His thoughts were interrupted by the soft ding of the elevator, announcing its arrival at the ground.

'Top floor?' Jones turned to answer the young woman at the desk.

'Yes, unfortunately.'

'I take it you're back to work now?'

'As always.' She smiled warmly, and he almost returned the gesture before exiting, and beginning his patrol of the ten foot concrete wall bordering their village.

* * *

Dean awoke with a start, finding himself in an alien room. It looked like a metallic, hospital like room, but not quite as...humanitarian. This could be forgiven, what with the current apocalypse and all. 'Hi!'

Dean practically jumped out of his skin. He turned around, and behind him was a young, smiley, woman. She was wearing black sweatpants, and a red sports bra with random blue patterns. Her blonde hair was braided into an intricate ponytail draped over her left shoulder. Although she looked sweet and innocent, Dean couldn't help but feel that she wasn't to be messed with. 'Who are you?'

'My name is Julie! I came to see you. You looked lonely.'

'Yeah...uh, where am I?'

'Quaaaaarantine.' This girl just got weirder by the second. Half of the things she said, it was more like she sang them.

'If I'm in quarantine, how are you here?'

'They didn't _let_ me in. I snuuuuck my way in. You can't lock _me_ out.' She giggled childishly as she boasted of her talents.

'You know, you really don't strike me as one to survive in an apocalypse.'

'I have that effect on people...well the truth is I'm actually a master thief and assassin and all sorts of stuff, and I'm great with guns. I _can_ look after myself...I just don't act like it!' She jumped in the air triumphantly as she spoke.

'Ok...why are you here? Why would you walk into a quarantined area to see the person inside?'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Well, you're not a zombie, which means you're immune. And you're not dead, which means you're awesome!'

Dean laughed. 'I like you. But, seriously, what is this place?'

'You should know, you dragged yourself here from who-knows-where. Why go somewhere you don't know?'

'I dragged myself here because it looked like, somehow, miraculously, people might be here. And somehow, still miraculously, they are. How?'

'I'm not sure. When reports started coming in around the states of 'zombie attacks', someone obviously got a lot of people together and built this big wall. Inside is about eight blocks of safety, probably the only real safety we have left now. But safety it is!' She smiled at Dean, throwing him off from her more serious tale. 'We have some animals and everything on a little farm. We're pretty much self-sufficient here. We even have some generators or something giving us power, so we can play videogaaaaames!' She seemed really excited by the concept. After a moment, she calmed down, and continued. 'Anyway, some people heard about this place and came here in case the rumours were true. The military and everything were too busy with the riots and stuff to stop them from building it, so we stayed and helped. And then...uh...' Suddenly, her demeanour completely changed. She looked down, obviously reliving the time in which the infected killed everyone who hadn't been taken by the virus. 'Well, you know the rest. But here we are, safe and sound.'

'Right...how long have you been here?'

'Not long. We sealed it all off about two weeks ago. And it's been all quiet since then.'

'Not even a tank broken in?'

'A tank?' She looked at him curiously. Dean was surprised that she didn't know- after all, tanks are hardly stealthy.

'You know, the big, mutated, muscular guys, who like nothing better than pounding survivors into a fine paste?'

'Oh, that guy! No, he hasn't tried to get in. Although you might be right. I wonder if he can punch through solid concrete...' Dean was too baffled by this girl to even try and figure out if she was being sarcastic. Dean realised he was missing something. 'Wait...shit! Where are my...'

'You mean these?' She grinned, holding up his two peculiarly shaped swords. 'What are they anyway? They're funky.'

'They're called hook swords, and they're family heirlooms,' he answered, reaching out in a futile attempt to snatch them from her, 'and they're pretty damn deadly, so give them to me.'

She answered that by moving them both fluidly in a swinging motion, moving into a near-perfect fighting stance, before advancing in a quick, deadly move, only stopping with the blade to his neck. 'You were saying?'

He stared for a moment, in complete shock. Finally he regained his senses and batted the blade away from his throat. 'Ok, I underestimated you. But they're still mine.'

'I know.' She relaxed, and handed him the twin blades. 'I don't steal from friends!'

'So...that makes us friends now?'

'Of course!' She danced around happily. 'What else did you think?'

'_Great,' _he thought. '_Now I'll never get rid of her.' _He placed the blades to the left of the bed he had woken up on, and turned to look at her again, but she was gone. 'Uh, Julie?' He looked around the room, but found no evidence of her hiding, or how she had left. Or even how she had entered. He decided to forget about her, and hope she hadn't been a figment of his imagination. Instead he walked over to the large, and presumably airtight, window to the room. 'Hello?' he called. 'Who's out there?' A surprised looking black man dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, with a long, green coat that almost covered them both, strolled almost cautiously over to the window.

'You're awake?'

'No, I'm passed out. Look, I'm over there, unconscious.' The man-presumably in the military-laughed, before noting something down on a clipboard.

'That's good. How do you feel?'

'Other than the fact I'm probably going to die sometime soon, I'm just fine.'

'You'll be fine. Unless you turn into a zombie. Then I'll shoot you. If not, you'll be allowed to live here. So long as you do your part, you'll be accepted, and safe.'

'Well...that's good to hear. But when are you going to let me out of here?' Well you were out for a day, so you can come out tomorrow. It never takes longer than two days to turn, so you should be fine. I think if you were going to you would be showing signs of it by now if you hadn't already, so don't worry.'

'But you have to keep me here anyway, just in case?'

'Of course. Sorry about that. My name's Jones, by the way. Shout if you need something.'

'I'll keep that in mind. I'd shake your hand, but I find myself unable to at the moment.'

Jones chuckled. 'Enjoy your stay.' He turned and made his way back up the dark corridor, leaving Dean alone again.

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_Review it like now. Because if you don't, I'll feel sad. But if you do I'll feel very very very very very very very happy and write more. Assuming that you like it, that'll be good for you! So review. :D_

_*zombie five*  
_


	3. Life Inside These Walls

A lone Hunter stalks along the tall concrete walls, hoping to find a way inside.

Of course, he doesn't understand. He has no idea what the wall is, how tall or long it is, or why it's there. He's simply curious...and of course, hungry.

He tries yet again, fruitlessly, to leap over. Even his impressive leaping proves unable to clear the top of this obstacle. But the hunger is so great, that he still tries. He hasn't fed in ages. His last victim was many nights ago, during the loud time. The loud time didn't last very long, only a day. That was the time when the humans ran around madly, and tried to stay alive, as many of them changed, and killed those who didn't.

But now it was the opposite. Every night was quiet now. Not a single living human has appeared in many nights, and he misses their taste. The warm blood, the living flesh, the scent of their _fear. _That was the best part of all. The satisfaction of the hunt, climaxing in such a raw emotion. He would always take a moment to breathe in their terror, before finally feasting on the flesh.

Suddenly, he notices something. Up the road, away from the wall. A figure. Enough to distract him from his futile endeavours, at least. The figure looks almost human, and seems to move cautiously. It even has some kind of weapon. He scrambles up a building and observes silently from a rooftop. The figure seems to be clad in the small metal things they put in their weapons, one of which is strapped to its back. Satisfied that it _must _be one of them, he begins to stalk. He relaxes his muscles, and crouches, letting the blood rush to the lower portions of his body. He leaps-effortlessly and silently-across the street, landing easily on the roof across. He looks again, and sees the figure, directly beneath him. And it hasn't noticed him. He takes his chance. He crouches again, a low growl escaping the back of his throat. He's ready. Full of anticipation. He leaps down to the street, landing savagely on top of the figure, knocking him to the floor with ease, pinning him helplessly beneath him. He looks down with satisfaction at the figure's face, hoping to see the look of pure terror and helplessness.

But something isn't right.

Something is missing.

Why isn't he screaming? Why isn't he calling for help?

No, no, he's not one of them. He's just another of the many. One of the weak ones. The jump had killed him instantly.

The Hunter howls in disappointment. Such a prey is no challenge for him. However, the hunger lingers still. Not wanting to waste any opportunity to feed, he feasts on the long dead flesh, though it brings such little satisfaction in comparison to a true victim. With luck, though, it might keep his strength long enough to find some real prey.

He tosses aside what remains of the corpse, and climbs back to the rooftops. He leaps away into the night, with vague hopes of a true hunt.

Julie exhaled slowly. This was the dangerous part. Her fingers held a firm grip on the window, and her feet had found security in a crevasse of some sort. She didn't look to see where; she didn't care, as long as it held her. She reached up and continued her climb. She studied the surfaces of the building as she ascended, making note of possible footholds. They were hard to decipher in the murky darkness. There were streetlights below, but they were dimmed to save on power. The generators didn't run as much at night. She looked up, and grinned. She could see her window. She moved herself into a position where she was hanging above the open window, and then kicked forward and let go of the wall, landing easily inside. She looked up into the apprehensive face of her tenant. 'God damnit girl, why d'you have to do that every time? Can you not climb _stairs_, as any normal person?'

She smiled childishly. 'But walls are so much fun. Stairs are boring, everyone uses them. I like walls! Especially tall walls. Those are the best kind. Like on buildings. Have you ever climbed a building? It's great fun. It's really exciting and everything. You should try it sometime.'

Mrs Atkinson placed her hand on her forehead, sighing. The girl spoke so fast, it gave her a headache. 'Calm down, girl. Look, climb whatever way you want, just don't...break anything, okay?'

'Of course not, I'm suuuuuuuuper careful.' The woman shook her head and retreated from the room, closing the door. Julie grinned. '_Mission accomplished', _she told herself in her head. She wasn't really going home; she just wanted to piss Mrs Atkinson off. That was always such good fun. Silly dried up old woman. Why'd they have to make her live with her, anyway? There were so many other people with homes here. Some of the guys were pretty good looking, too. She sighed to herself-things had a habit of not going her way like that. Of course, if she could help it, they always did. But still, there was more to do this night. She lowered herself out of the window again, beginning the climb back down, imagining the fun she could involve herself in during the night. She looked down to the street. 'Oh wow, it's Dean. And he's coming here? Does he live here?' She smiled mischievously to herself. This could be fun.

Dean sighed, wishing for a release. At first, this quiet confinement had been a welcome change from the mad rush from survival that came beyond these walls; but now, he was simply bored. He wanted to explore this town that these people had made for themselves. See if it was really as safe as they thought...

'Good news!' Dean snapped around to see a figure step out of the shadows from behind the glass. It was Jones. 'You're most certainly not a zombie.'

'You're letting me out?'

'We most certainly are.' He grinned as he pressed a button, presumably unlocking the cell door. Dean picked up his swords and strapped them to his back, in an 'X' shape. Jones handed him an envelope. 'This is your new home, and the key to that home.'

'You're offering me residence already?'

'Of course! We can't afford to waste any manpower at all, to be honest. Besides, you seem trustworthy. That or you're an excellent spy.'

'Who the hell would I be spying for?'

'Exactly.' Jones flashed him a smile before turning to leave. 'I have duties to attend to', he said, walking away. 'Be sure to explore the place.' He closed a door behind him, and was gone, leaving Dean not knowing which way to turn.

'That was intelligent. Which way is out?' He scanned around the room, and noticed a large green 'EXIT' sign above a cold steel door. 'Oh.' He shoved it open-which took a surprising deal of effort-and finally, for the first time in days, found himself outside. It was night, which surprised him; he didn't know when he'd got there, or how long exactly they'd held him, but he'd assumed he'd be let out sometime during the day. _'I never thought fresh air would be such a blessing, though,' _he thought. With no particular destination in mind, he began to wander the streets.

He discovered that the place was larger than he would originally have thought-at least eight blocks. Toward the center there were some apartment blocks, where it seemed he had been homed. In the very center there was a larger still building that dominated the rest of the town. Dean assumed that if there were leaders, they resided there. Behind the large building there were a bunch of wierd metal machine things, which presumably supplied the power for the town. He opened the envelope and found his way to the place it specified. There was also a key in the envelope, which unlocked the door of the building. It seemed like some sort of apartment block. He moved inside, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Before he could turn round, the person shouted into his face. ' HI!'

He jumped, and answered her bluntly. 'Christ Julie, you gave me a heart attack.'

'No I didn't, don't be silly. If I didn't you'd be lying on the ground, probably shouting 'My heart! My heart!'

'It's a figure of speech, genius.'

'Why use a figure of speech when you could use actually speech? It's so much easier to understand, after all.'

'You know, you are impossible to talk to.'

'Everything's more fun when it's a challenge,' she said, grinning madly.

'Riiiight...what are you doing here?'

'I live here.'

'Really? Apparently, me too.'

'Oh yay! Now we can be neighbours as well as super best friends ever!'

'Uh...yeah...yay.' Dean's sarcasm was hardly subtle, but Julie didn't seem to notice it.

'I knew you'd be thrilled! What room do you have?'

'24.'

'The room next to mine! Awesome!'

'Oh, wonderful,' Dean said, rolling his eyes. Right now he'd rather be out there again. Even getting your insides ripped out by a Hunter was preferable to this.


End file.
